


Of Fevers, Sore Throats, and Outshine Bars

by OreoMush



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluffy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I referenced our monday latin class, I sort of had strep and had to be carried to the drs when I was 11, Kier has strep, M/M, Race has strep, Sickfic, Soft!Spot, Spot having a mental debate, also dont hate the poor grammar, based on my life kinda, being sick isn't the main thing, but it's imPORTANT, first I love yous, hey guys!, on me or the newsies's behalf, or mention this during latin, please dont hate me for the accents school friends, see if you catch it, seeing as a bunch of you are in my latin class, the writing club at school is reading this, venting about my throat issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OreoMush/pseuds/OreoMush
Summary: Race is sick, and Spot is being abnormally sweet.





	Of Fevers, Sore Throats, and Outshine Bars

**Author's Note:**

> I get a lot of strep throat and decided to write this

Racetrack Higgins woke up in a pool of his own sweat. “Babe?” he called weakly, barely able to speak above a whisper.  
Spot Conlon grumbled next to him. “What is it, Pretty Boy?” Spot muttered, rolling over to face his blond haired beau.  
“Spot, I don’t feel well. Will you carry me to the couch?” Race muttered, adjusting his gray sweatshirt.  
Spot nodded, scooping the boy up and glancing at the clock. 2 am. “Okay , Baby.” He whispered, “We’se taking you to the doctors tomorrow.” He placed a chaste kiss to Race’s forehead.  
Spot smiled, watching the boy as he curled up. Spot placed a single white comforter over the young boy’s body. He kissed the boy’s cheek, smiling before exiting the room, but not before hearing a small whisper. 

“I love you. Ti Amo.”

 

Spot didn’t sleep that night. Racetrack loved him. Racetrack loved him. But what if he didn’t? What if he was talking to his Nonna in a dream. Spot threw those doubts away for even just a hot second. He was going to prove to Racetrack Higgins that he loved that boy back.  
Race was awoken to the sound of Les Jacobs running through his door. “Hey Racetrack!” Les exclaimed. “Spot said you got real sick last night! He told Dave and I we should come over with these!” Les held up two target bags, each filled to the brim with popsicles.  
Dave followed close behind, carrying throat coat and some old crime tv shows. “I know you like them” he said, in reference to the tv shows.  
Spot Conlon burst through his bedroom doors. A smile had graced his face as he kissed Race’s cheek.  
“Well hello, darling.” He said, holding Race’s hand. “I scheduled your appointment for 1:30, just so you can wait a bit before showering. It was the least I could do.” He smiled. “C’mon, I’ll make us pancakes.”  
Spot’s phone buzzed  
Davey: What’s ur problem?  
Spot Conlon:Explain,,  
Davey: I’ve never seen you this lovey dovey  
Spot Conlon: Look,I think that Race used the L word last night, when I was tucking him in.  
Read,10:37

“Hey how much longer ‘till you ain't contagious?” Spot yelled to his boyfriend as he put on his jacket.  
“I don’t know, why?” Race yelled back, his voice just getting hoarser.  
“‘Cause” Spot huffed “I can’t kiss you when you’re sick”  
Race smiled a little bit at the comment. “Well, if we get to the doctors, I’ll became better quicker. Besides, the better I feel, the more places I can go to with you.” Race smiled a little, followed by a loud, hacking cough and a groan “Spotty!” Race said. “How much longer till the doctor’s?”  
Spot chuckled “Babe, we’re getting ready to leave now.”  
The car ride was uneventful, Race spent most of it curled up in the back, Spot having a mental debate.  
I could always just tell him I love him back, Spot considered. Unless, of course, it was directed at someone else in a dream. Spot barely noticed when he pulled into the doctor's office, gently nudging Race.  
Race squaked. “Conlon.” He looked up. “Carry me”  
Spot sighed “Do you really need it?”  
Race nodded, tears streaming down his face. “It really hurts, Spotty. He muttered.  
Spot nearly started to crying just looking at Race in this pain. He picked up his boyfriend, holding him close. “Racer” Spot muttered. “Why do you feel so sick?”  
Race did as best a shrug as possible. “I’m just hungry ‘cause I can’t eat. It hurts my throat.”  
Spot held the Race a little tighter. “Well, you gotta talk to the doctor. Okay honey?”  
Race nods in slight confusion. “Spotty, you don’t gotta pity me. We all get sick from time.”  
Spot sighs. He could just say it right now, but he wants it to be at least a little special.  
“Okay, darling.”

“Okay, so he has a really bad case of strep. Double the antibiotics, and give him some prednisone. He’ll feel a little better by tonight.” The doctor, Adi, had told Spot, who was jolting this all down in his notes app. “Should I just have him rest?’  
The doctor nodded. “Have him eat a bunch of popsicles, it’ll soothe his throat.”  
Spot nodded, walking up to Race on the doctors bench. (He had been forced to sit across the room,spite protests.)

Race sat in a grey sweater on his couch, a raspberry popsicle in one hand and a remote in the other. “For the last time, Spotty, ain’t no reason to pity me. I’se already feeling better.” He took another lick of the popsicle, keeping it from melting.  
“And for the last time, I ain’t pitying you.”  
Race took a final chomp off his popsicle, throwing the stick into a pile big enough to recreate the trojan horse. “Yes, you is. You’ve never been this sweet to me. You’se always throwin’ me around. Yet you ain’t today. What’s that about, Conlon?”  
Spot sighs “I’m doing it ‘cause I love you, Race.” Bang goes the gun. There goes the truth.  
Spot looked up at Race, who was tearing up. “Race,” he began “I’m sorry.”  
Race practically leaped over to Spot.”I love you too.” He said, snuggling himself into his love.  
“I know you do. You said it last night. I wanted to prove it to you.”  
Race’s face fell a little. “I was hoping you didn’t hear me. I was scared you didn’t love me back, I didn’t really think you would.”  
Spit held Race close to him. “Oh pretty boy.” Spot whispered, running his hand through his Race’s blond curly hair. “I love you so much.” He said, smiling at the boy.  
“I love you even more.” Race whispered up. 

And those boys were happy.

**Author's Note:**

> OOh hope you liked this. 
> 
> Best,  
> Kier


End file.
